Persocom
by 3 Musketeers
Summary: One animé fans journey through a fantastic world of wonder and fantasy... as a household appliance.


Persocom

If I told you I was human once, would you believe me?

No?

Probably not.

Well I suppose I do have the ears, and those glassy, apparently soulless eyes. I have a CPU, RAM and hard drive memory, 6-axis accelerometers mated to an independent dedicated stabilisation processor, Solenoid actuated 5/3 valves operating high pressure micro and macro hydraulics, controlling balance, mobility and posture. My vision system includes real time data in picture overlay, my green eyes a pair of 10.5 megapixel cameras with both digital and optical zoom functions. My audio systems can clearly and reliably pick up sound intensity of less than 10db, up to a safe limit of 150db, and between frequencies of 10 Hz to 40.2 kHz. My chassis, for want of a better word, is based on a high density carbon composite skeleton, with minimal friction roller bearing joints, and simulated shock absorbing tendon system.

I can easily run STALKER Shadow of Chernobyl without those irritating stuttering pauses everytime you approach one of your weapon stashes.

Of course, that's only a basic spec.

All that means that I'm a custom model, in a loose definition of the term anyway, since I appear to have been constructed from purely off the shelf components by a specialist, like a gaming PC.

It also means I have an owner.

But more on her later, back to me.

As I said, I was human once.

I think.

Maybe it really was my programmer taking the piss.

I mean, am I really thinking and writing this, or are my responses governed by hybrid C-Assembly language subroutines, run by a simulated emotion based operating system?

listenf ("s", UserOrder);

if (strcmp(UserOrder, "RegisterNewUser") 0)

listenf ("s", UName);

speakf ("Username s registered.", UName);

happiness10;

By any definition I'm intelligent, but sentience? I suppose you can't prove you're sentient either can you? So I guess we can forget that question or else we'll be arguing until the cows come home.

But if Data from Star Trek could be sentient, without feelings, then maybe there's hope on that front. I'll probably last long enough to meet him anyway, with a projected lifespan for most high grade persocoms estimated to be centuries, barring any major accidents or hard drive damage.

But, I digress.

Do you believe I was human?

Maybe if I tell my story.

The least you could do is listen.

**I...I**

I never saw the car that hit me.

Perhaps it was my fault, crossing a busy road while reading a manga being stupidity worthy of a Darwin award..

The first thing I was aware of was lying on my back on the road, rain splashing coldly across me. I blinked and shook my head, struggling to get my bearings.

**Hydraulic Power: 89 percent**

**Processor Usage: 95 percent**

**Temperature: 38.9 degrees.**

**Physical Memory: 244144**

**Available: 000276**

**Page File Usage: 1,575 MB**

**Processes: 727**

**Threads: 8214**

**User:**

What was that?

**:System Status:** flashed in my vision.

I blinked and shook my head. I had to be seeing stars. Weird, unicode shaped stars. I must've hit my head hard.

But I felt fine.

**Hydraulic Power: 87 percent**

**Processor Usage: 96 percent**

**Temperature: 39.2 degrees.**

**Physical Memory: 244144**

**Available: 000126**

**Page File Usage: 1,642 MB**

**Processes: 730**

**Threads: 8214**

**User:**

There it was again. I shook it off, something in my head ticking as I did so.. Definitely some brain damage in their or something, some loose marble rattling around my skull.

I sat up, my right arm struggling to push my weight up. It buckled and shook, but held. I looked at it, wondering what was wrong.

It didn't feel broken.

But maybe, with shock?.

Blood was running in sticky red rivers down my forearm, along my fingers, then dripping in oily vermillion drops onto the black tar road.

It didn't hurt.

It was a strange numbess, nothing more, like the feeling was draining from the tips of my fingers. I flexed my hand, at least, I tried. All I was rewarded with was a strange, sensationless spasm of my hand as it tried to answer, and an alarming rush of blood flooding from beneath my t-shirt.

Shaking slightly, I looked up at the black Honda Accord that had hit me, a human shaped dent in the grill. The engine rattled for a moment, before dying with a wheeze. The cars bumper wore a Japanese registration.

What?

**Accessing web resource...search result... Registry of Nerima Ward, Tokyo, Year 2006**

I blinked again, then looked at it, again.

An import vehicle?

The driver appeared, a grey heard, elderly man, who's body seemed to be being supported on a frame of sticks covered by loose skin. His daughter, or more likely, granddaughter followed, wearing a frilly pink dress.

A doll sat on her shoulder, blond haired and glassy eyed, wearing a green dress that made it look like a Rozen Maiden reject.

It had weird, plastic ears too. I recognized them, but couldn't quite place them.

"I'm okay," I said, my voice seeming younger and oddly distorted somehow.

The old man suddenly looked very concerned saying something in Japanese, while the girl ran forward with an excited spring in her step.

I had no idea what she was saying, but she seemed very excited about me. She was babbling between the old man and me in her native language.

"I don't understand you, I'm sorry,"

She gave what sounded like a command, but I just stared at her blankly.

The old man shushed her.

"List...registered...owner," he said in heavily accented English.

"Registered owner not found," my voice intoned flatly, like an upgraded Microsoft Sam.

The girls eyes lit up.

"What the?" I gasped, covering my mouth. Why the hell had I said that?

"List...registered...user," he commanded.

"Registered users: None," I responded.

What the hell happened to me? Why was I saying these things? Why were the two Japanese staring at me like I was an appliance?

I scratched my head, ready to collapse with bewilderment at it all. Until, I found something hard and plastic stuck to the side of my head, a moulded stone where my ear should've be.

I tugged, and it popped open.

Oh shit... what the hell...what the hell... what the hell am I?

**System Information:**

**Operating System: Linux 'Uhura' Persocom- Custom modification **

**Processor: Asahi technical industries Gigacore AC68009 256bit 5.2Ghz neural**

**Harddrive: 10.256 terabyte Oceangate MX-10259xb**

**Stabilisation: Honda AsimoVI 6-axis 1Ghz**

**Model: Male...Caucasian...custom build**

**Registered to: Administrator1**

What?

An order from the girl, and the Rozen reject jumped to the tarmac, almost daintily running towards me. She had a unique dance about her step, rhythmic and digitally perfect.

The doll hopped up my leg, a damped servo whir announcing her final jump onto my shoulder.

It clicked its own pink and white plastic 'ear' open, then drew a short cable from within its own head.

Then offered it to me.

Before I could say no, It slipped it into my ear with a plastic tic. I blinked as a series of kanji flashed through my vision.

And then, I spoke once more.

"Vox update requires restart. Do you wish to restart now?"

"_lie..._No," The man said, correcting himself. "Shut down. Confirm command."

"Command _shut down _confirmed." my voice said.

Immediately, I felt strangely tired. I tried to voice an objection, but nothing would come out. I couldn't breath, or move, or do anything but stare at the the two Japanese.

I could feel my mind going, my awareness dulling.

It was terrifying.

It was the cold embrace of death rising up from within me, ready to drag my consciousness down into it's infinitely dark depths.

I was paralysed.

Trapped.

Unable to

speak or.

Move.

Just

frozen

Then oblivion followed.

**I...I**

Although the title would suggest this is a chobits fic... it isn't. It's a general crossover with multiple animé...and a few other things...

Needless to say, none of the copyright characters mentioned belong to me... I'm just borring them for a bit... for some fun.

Also... Pseudo-C language _was_ correct...but FFN stripped it a bit... oh well.

Good day people...


End file.
